


And I Heard, As It Were, The Noise Of Thunder

by ILovedAlone



Category: Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Damon Salvatore/Leviathan!Dean Winchester (For Now), M/M, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slight Descriptions Of Gore/Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2018-07-29 01:39:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7665328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILovedAlone/pseuds/ILovedAlone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Needing a break from their little robberies and killing sprees, Sam and Dean Winchester happen by the little town of Mystic Falls.  They look forward to a little relaxation, but that won't stop them from having a little bit of fun with the towns inhabitants.  The real Winchesters come into town, not knowing of the little havoc their Leviathan Doppelgangers have caused...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And I heard, As It Were, The Noise Of Thunder: Prologue

**Disclaimer** : I do not own or make any profit from Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries, or any of the music mentioned in this fictional story.

  
**Warnings** : Contains M/M Damon/Dean (Demon) slash & possible sexual adult situations in later chapters.

  
**Timeline** : Takes place during SPN S07xE06 "Slash Fiction".

  
**A/N** : This is just an idea that came to mind and I thought it would be fun to write.  I am not very good at writing anything that contains sexuality, so please bare with me.  Enjoy!

Now on to the story...

 

:::

  
And I heard, As It Were, The Noise Of Thunder

  
**Prologue**

  
:::

 

The Mystic Grill was alive with its night life inhabitants.  Friends chatted animatedly about their recent life events.  Couples laughed flirtatiously on either their first or many dates.  Indie music blasted loudly throughout the venue, annoying one of its frequent patrons.  He released an irritated sigh.  Some Johnny Cash would sound really good to him right now.  Damon Salvatore leaned heavily into his right arm that was pressed firmly across his chest, his other arm stretched out across the bar and nursing a glass of whiskey.  Slowly but surely, he could feel the alcohol working its way through his system.

He encouraged it to take over him completely; and by refusing to feed for the last couple of days, he hoped it would help him to become numb that much sooner.  He wanted to forget Katherine.  Forget Stefan.  Forget Elena.  In fact, he wanted to forget himself just for a little while.  He needed something more interesting to happen, something to help him keep his mind off this little drama-fest eternal life brought him.  He took the last swing of his whiskey and motioned the bar tender over, requesting another shot.

Once his glass was filled, he downed the whiskey in one quick gulp.  He closed his eyes, savoring the warm tumbler burning smoothly down his throat, feeling the world start to fade away when faint words suddenly caught his ear.  He looked up to the large; and otherwise ignored, newly installed flat screen TV hanging above the bar and watched as the local news unfolded before him.  A slight smirk escaped as he twirled the newly filled glass of whiskey languidly in his hand.  For some reason, the man in the news smiling at the confiscated security camera footage sent delightful chills down his spine.  This man screamed danger.  Damon liked danger.

This man, along with his younger brother, were on the FBI's Most Wanted for robberies and killing sprees being committed across the states.  The men's names were revealed along with their mug shots: Dean and Sam Winchester.  Their names sounded so familiar to him.  He would bet that the man with the pretty green eyes and the shapely full lips was Dean Winchester.  Even the name sounded delicious.  Rebellious.  The name fit this man perfectly.  Damon had never been ashamed of acknowledging another mans beauty.  For him, that's usually as far as he'll go, but this Dean Winchester actually made him feel a bit...curious.

There's plenty of drama here, but he would love for Dean Winchester to bring some action to this dull town.  A sudden thundering sound caught his attention amongst the roaring crowd.  Thanks to his vamperic hearing, he could hear the purr of an engine, no doubt the sound of a 1967 Chevy Impala, what the news released as their get away vehicle, pulling into the parking lot and AC/DC's "Hells Bells" blasting loudly from the car stereo.  Damon's smirk widened.  It seems he just might get his wish...

 

**:::**


	2. If You're Into Evil, You're A Friend Of Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I left ff.net because I thought the layout here was better and that it would be easier to post...apparently I was wrong:/ It seems I only have the option to paste my work, having to tediously edit it only to have the site mess it up. If anyone knows any other options to post (pdf or doc downloads?), I would really appreciate it!:)
> 
> Any faults are my own (& AO3)
> 
> Now, on to the story...

 

:::

  
If You're Into Evil, You're A Friend Of Mine

**Chapter I**

:::

 

No one inside the Mystic Grill didn't seem too interested in the local news; otherwise, they would've recognized the two men that suddenly sauntered through the doors.  One was very tall, his medium-long chestnut brown hair tucked behind his ears, his hazel eyes taking in the vibrant crowed with a hint of disgust.  The other, slightly shorter with short blonde hair and green eyes, had a mischievous smile creep across his full, bowed lips.  Only for the fact that they were handsome strangers to this town and stood out with their rugged looks were they very much noticed, especially by him.

 

**:::**

 

Damon watched amused as Dean hustled one person after another at a game of pool throughout the night while his younger brother teased every hopeful girl that came his way.  Dean would flash his next potential victim a charming smile, discreetly noting any information they shared as they spoke with him so that he can use it to rail them in.  Chatting them up about sports, cars, and anything else that interested them seemed to do the trick.  Offering to buy their drinks seemed to work even better.  He gained enough trust from them to bet a generous amount on a game; and before they knew it, they were completely wasted and out of cash.

Dean's friendly demeanor was suddenly replaced by a cocky attitude and a wicked sneer after collecting his winnings, turning his new found buddies into disgruntled enemies.  As one of these disgruntled enemies were being dragged away by their group, Damon watched as Sam brushed off another hopeful broad and approached his brother, pulling him aside.  Curious, Damon tuned in his vamparic hearing as Sam started seething quietly into Dean's ear.

"You mind toning it down a bit?  We've only been here a few hours and you're already making enemies."

"I was just having a little fun." Dean said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"There'll be plenty of time for fun later," Sam said, a slight smirk curving his own lips.

Damon felt a chill run down his spine.  He seemed to be the only one who knew what "fun" they had in mind.  Dean gave an exasperated sigh, 

"Okay, fine.  While we're at it, you mind taking it slow with the chicks?  That's supposed to be my department."

"Supposed to be." Sam said with a wink as he made his way back to one of the many broads that wanted his sole attention.

Damon chuckled as he took a swig of his beer.  He continued to watch as Dean accepted another challenge to a game of pool...only this time, his eyes weren't focused on the game.  Dean shrugged off the black jacket he was wearing over a black t-shirt and an olive green over shirt, revealing a nicely clad bottom that the jacket helped to obscure earlier.  He loved the way the distressed jeans hugged Dean's curves, and he especially loved the little rips near his thighs.  

Damon's eyes traveled back up to where Dean's hands glided almost sensually up and down the pool stick as he applied powder.  He could almost swear that Dean was putting on a show for him.  Dean nodded, giving his opponent the go ahead to make the break.  To Damon's luck, Dean moved around the pool table directly in front of him, his back facing Damon as he leaned over, giving Damon a really nice view.  Damon licked his lips as he eyes slid over Dean to the small of his back, leading into a very sharp curve and into a shapely bottom that swayed slightly as Dean prepared to take a shot.  

Damon had to look away for a moment as he tried to gain control over himself, the hunger starting to rise within him.  The game seemed to drag a bit and he had a feeling that Dean enjoyed leading his opponents on, knowing that he will eventually win in the end.  Cocky bastard.  Damon liked that.  Once again, another unfortunate victim walked away with their heads bowed in defeat as Dean yet again pocketed his winnings.

"What do you say Blue Eyes, you interested?"

Damon looked up, surprised to see Dean looking straight at him. Damon gave his best smirk as he downed the rest of his beer, 'What makes you say that?" Damon asked innocently.

Dean returned his own smirk, "Well, maybe because I noticed you eyeing me the whole night."

Damon smiled and shrugged himself off and away from the bar. He sauntered his way up to Dean until they were face to face.

"Is pool the only thing you hustle?" Damon asked suggestively as his eyes swept over Dean's body once again.

Anger flashed briefly through Dean's green eyes, but was quickly replaced by a hint of interest.  A sly smirk placed itself onto those shapely lips once again as Dean moved closer to Damon, his voice husky in his ear, "If you win, I'll let you have a small taste."

Damon's smirk broadened at that, "And if you win?"

Dean pulled back, looking Damon straight in the eyes, "Then you walk away with blue balls."

Damon's smirk faltered somewhat; that wasn't quite the answer he was looking for, but he refused to let this beautiful, cocky stranger believe he had the upper hand. He gave Dean his best confident grin.

"Deal."

Dean smiled teasingly, waving his hand over the pool table, "Then let's begin."

 

**:::**

 

The bar had become almost empty with closing time drawing near.  The only patrons that remained were Damon and Dean, a young couple snuggling together in a booth, two guys drinking their last shots at the bar, and the bartender cleaning up his station. Sam walked out of the bar a while back with a clingy bird like thing on his arm.  

With the Mystic Grill being so empty, the music was louder than before, once again playing some annoying slow song by some modern Indie group.  Damon made another successful shot, bringing himself that much closer to his prize.  He looked over at Dean, seeing him leaning on an empty pool table as he stretched languidly, his shirt pulling up to reveal a taunt stomach and low rise jeans. The asshole was teasing him on purpose.

Damon stood straight, leaning against his pool stick, "Well, one more shot and I win."

Dean pushed himself off the pool table and went to stand in front of Damon, a seductive smirk on his lips.

"By all means, go ahead and take your shot," Dean once again leaned in closer and whispered into Damon's ear, "and claim your prize."

Damon hissed, feeling his body respond to Dean's words.  He pulled back, moving his lips close to Dean's, "Then you better wait for me in the back alley."

Dean snorted at his words and moved back, leaning once again on the pool table behind him. Damon smirked and prepared to make his final shot...

**BZZZZZZZZZZ**!

Damon startled as his phone went off, vibrating loudly in his pocket and causing him to lose his aim and miss his shot.

_SHIT!_

Damon growled and pulled his cell out of his pocket, seeing Stefan's name blaring off the Caller ID. He answered it with an angry, "WHAT!"

"Where are you?" Stefan asked calmly, ignoring the obvious annoyance in his brothers tone.

"I'll fucking be heading home right now thanks to you!"

Before Stefan can respond, Damon hung up and angrily shoved his cell back into his pocket.  He heard a throaty chuckle behind him and turned to face Dean who had that same wicked sneer across his face...making Damon want him even more.

"Well, I guess I win." Dean said-which was a shame because he really wanted to enjoy his snack-as he put his pool stick up and started to rack up all the balls.

While still leaning slightly over the pool table to reach for the last ball, Dean felt Damon and his noticeable arousal press up behind him.

"You sure you want me to lose this bet?" Damon whispered into his ear.

Dean turned around to face him, leaning back on the pool table, "Awww, don't be so disappointed. If it's any consolation to you, I did have fun."

Damon felt a growl wanting to rise in his throat.  Who in the hell did this guy think he is (besides a wanted criminal)?  Damon knew he could easily compel him right now and take what he wanted, but he kinda liked this little game Dean was playing. He decided to play right along.

"You know, I would've won fair and square if my little brother hadn't disturbed my game, so I believe I deserve a little something, don't you think?"

Dean arched an eyebrow, tilted his head as if in thought, then shrugged his shoulders, "If you wish." 

He suddenly grabbed Damon by the lapels of his black leather jacket and pulled him into a scorching kiss.  A slick tongue was forced into Damon's mouth and Damon moaned into the kiss, his body pushing Dean further against the pool table.  He grabbed onto Dean's hips roughly as he felt Dean's right knee push between his black jean clad legs to nudge against his arousal.  He growled into Dean's mouth as their tongues warred against one another.  Damon suddenly felt Dean bite roughly into his lower lip, almost drawing blood and driving him wild with lust. 

Right at this moment, Sam walked through the door and observed the scene with indifference before clearing his throat to announce his presence.  Dean pulled back slowly, an evil smirk across his swollen lips, and smoothed a disheveled and breathless Damon's jacket back into place. 

"It seems we both have a knack at being interrupted by annoying little brothers." Dean mocked with a wicked gleam in his green eyes, "Maybe next time, you'll get a bit lucky and feel these lips..." Damon gasped as he felt Dean cup his arousal through his now restricting jeans, "...here." 

Dean pulled back, grabbed his own jacket, and made his way towards Sam.  Damon leaned against the pool table, trying to calm his raging hunger and lust.  He looked up to see Dean and his brother walking out the door, but not before Dean turned to him and gave him a parting wink.  Damon growled as Dean walked out, leaving him there needing and wanting...and with fucking blue balls.  Asshole. 

  

**:::**

 

"What the hell was that about?" Sam asked as soon as they made it outside into the chilled night air. 

"Just wanted to have a little bit of fun.  Dean fancies himself as a womanizer, which I think he overcompesates on, so I decided to help him broaden his horizons." 

An evil smirk plastered itself on Sam's face, "Nice. Just a little something more to add to his reputation." 

"That's the idea. So what happened to that pathetic creature you left with?" Dean asked as he opened the car door and slipped into the driver seat of the Impala.

"Hey, I got hungry and that rabbit food Sammy boy eats does shit for me; and don't worry, I disposed of all the remains properly." Sam said casually, his hand rubbing his full stomach as he slipped into the passenger seat next to him. 

"Good.  We don't need Roman getting on our asses.  Remember to keep our kills on the down low.  We want to give the Winchester's some time to catch up with us." Dean said as he started the Impala up.

"Understood.  I can't wait for them to roll into town. By then, the town folk won't be so friendly." 

 They both shared a devious laugh.  Dean turned up the radio, The Doors "Strange Days" playing loudly from the car stereo as they burned rubber out of the parking lot and into the night.

 

**:::**


	3. Our Casual Joys, We Shall Go On Playing

:::

Our Casual Joys, We Shall Go On Playing 

**Chapter II**

:::

 

The suns warmth on his face woke him out of his peaceful slumber; well, as peaceful as you can get when your head is thrown back against the raggedy head rest of an equally raggedy moving vehicle.  He winced when he attempted to sit up straighter, the crick in his neck protesting to every move.  His tired green eyes were trying to adjust to the surroundings as it flew past him in different shades of blue, green, brown, and red.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice graveled by sleep.

"Virginia," answered the equally exhausted voice next to him.

" 'bout damn time," Dean grumbled under his breath.

Sam rolled his eyes, his being tired causing him to be easily annoyed, and took a sip from his already cold coffee.  After all these years, he would think that; being practicality raised on the open road, Dean would be used to this.  Then again, there had been times where they were taken away from their "normal" everyday lives for long periods of time.  Both have shared their time in Hell...which was not in months, but years.  Dean had tried to settle down for a whole year, but the road and the hunt had beckoned him back.  Now, Sam guessed that it would only be natural for them to try and settle back into the swing of things...which seemed easier for him to do than for Dean.

"There's a small motel coming up soon.  It's the last motel we'll hit for miles.  We should drop in and rest until we figure out what to do about our Leviathan dopplegangers-" Sam suggested with a slight yawn,"-and I could definitely use the rest."

Dean thought for a moment, unsure if they should stop for a break, but he guessed Sam was right.  They've been on the road all night and they needed to be more alert before they go into the hunt, "Ah what the hell, I guess we can use the rest."

Sam brought his stale coffee up to his lips, "Like we had a choice." He mumbled under his breath before taking a sip.

Dean scowled at hearing his brothers sarcastic reply, "Bitch," Dean muttered unconsciously before he slipped back into sleep.

Sam knew Dean probably said it out of habit, but he had to smile at that.  It has been a long time and he missed hearing it.

"Jerk." He whispered in return to his already sleeping brother.

 

**:::**

 

Early morning dawn cast through the floor to ceiling windows of the old Salvatore mansion, basking every object within the darkened rooms in its soft glow.  Only one room remained devoid of sunlight, the thick, darkened curtains providing privacy and solitude to the lone figure sitting in front of the now dimming fireplace.  He held a glass of Bourbon in one hand while the fingers of the other laid curled under his chin, his elbow resting on the arm of the antique chair.  Damon watched the glowing embers as they slowly died out, deep in thought.  

His ice blue eyes were distant as his mind drifted to last nights events and to what he knew laid ahead. He knew what these Winchester brothers were in town for and he was debating if he should tell the others of their plan, or if he should just off these Winchester's himself.  They were just mere humans after all.  He decided to let them have their fun before he went in for the kill.  Besides, he still wanted to have a little more fun with this Dean Winchester before he sent him on his way.  What a shame to dispose of such a fine piece of ass.

He wondered if the Winchester's planned to make another appearance at the Mystic Grill tonight.  A smirk formed on his lips as he downed the rest of the Bourbon. There was only one way to find out...

 

**:::**

 

Dean groaned as his body protested against every move he attempted to make.  He turned slightly onto his side, the motel bed creaking loudly under his weight.  The crappy ass '92 Volvo they've been driving around in has sure been doing a number on him.  He guessed that jumping into bed with all his clothes on, even disregarding to kick off his boots, didn't help either.  He could hear Sam moving about the motel room.  Light from the room hit his face and he groaned again, one tired green eye peeking under gold lashes to see Sam packing up their belongings.

Sam looked up when he heard the groan Dean emitted, an arched eyebrow and a smile in place, "Had a nice sleep?" his only answer was the glare Dean shot his way, "Well, you better hurry up and get ready. It's already past noon, and if we leave now, we should make it to Mystic Falls by nightfall."

Dean frowned at this new piece of information, "Mystic Falls?"

"I did a bit of research as soon as I got up and I think I've got a lead.  I was following a pattern that our Doppelgangers were taking.  They pretty much hit every Virginia town along the same stretch of road and their tracks seemed to have stopped in Mystic Falls, Virginia.  There hasn't been any activity since."

"Maybe they decided to take a different route?" Dean suggested as he sat up and ran a hand down his tired face.  He reached down to the bag by his feet and started to dig into it, pulling out fresh clothes and a toothbrush.

"Not according to these patterns," Sam stated while looking at the road map, "My gut is telling me that they're there."

Dean arched an eyebrow, "And we're supposed to rely on that?"

Sam shrugged, "We have nothing else to go by at the moment.  Mystic Falls is our best bet."

Dean sighed wearily as he stood up and made his way to the bathroom. He walked out a few minutes later and thrusted the rest of his belongings into his pack, then shrugged it over his shoulder, "Fine, let's head out so we can get this over with.  I just want to off them so I can kick back and enjoy a nice cold beer...and maybe even one of the locals." Dean added with a wolvish grin and a wink.

Sam sighed and shook his head as he followed his brother out the motel room door.

 

**:::**

 

The dried up leaves of the long and withered branches, along with the thick white mist, prevented any mid-day sunlight from entering, making the woods seem darker and gloomier than it really was.  She fell back onto the wet and cold earth floor, her body screaming with pain.  She tried dragging herself back, the damp soil gathering under her nails, until she was against the bark of an old tree.  Dried blood from the various cuts on her body stuck to her ruined athletic attire, causing more uncomfortable agony to her already hurting limbs.  

Various body parts lay scattered all about her, a grotesque bloodbath, bringing a sickening feeling to her stomach.  Her blue eyes were wide with fear as she watched the tall one, his face and hands covered in blood, answer his ringing cell.  He was so calm and casual, acting as though he and his companion didn't just take down and brutally rip apart a whole swarm of Vampires moments before.  The other one was crouched in front of her, a frightening smile on his blood stained lips.  She pushed herself further away from him, her short blonde hair matted with blood and sweat that trickled down her brow and into her eyes.

She tried blinking the burn away, her vision becoming blurry, "Please..." she whispered, her voice shaking with fear, "...don't hurt me."

"I guess today was a bad day for you to take a stroll in the woods, huh?" His deep voice responded mockingly, "First, you get attacked by tasty little Vamps..., " he emphasized this by licking the Vampire blood off his lips, "...then here we come to save the day..."

Tears started to form in her eyes, "Please, just let me go home-"

"...only for you to become our meal instead."

Her whole frame started to tremble at his words.

"Got some news on the Winchester's," Sam stated as he hung up his phone, "They're a few hours outside of Mystic Falls.  According to our contact, they should be here by nightfall."

Dean stood up, cold eyes still on the frightened girl, "What a shame.  I was hoping to hit the Grill again tonight and enjoy that blue-eyed Vampire I met last night.  He was real tasty."

Sam rolled his eyes as he came to stand next to Dean, "There will be plenty of time for that later.  For now, we've got to stay low."

A sneer placed itself on Dean's face, "Fine.  Let's just enjoy our meal already so we can head back."

The girls terrified eyes widened even more as both men's faces suddenly changed into something horrifying.  Their mouths opened wide, their faces replaced by gaping black holes aligned with sharpened teeth and long, serpent-like tongues.

A blood curdleing scream rung throughout the darkened woods...then suddenly fell silent.

 

**:::**

 

"Yeah, thanks Bobby.  We'll call you if we find anything." Sam hung up his cell and continued to study the map that laid across his lap, a small flashlight in hand. It was almost nightfall, the sun already fading beyond the horizon.  According to the map, they should be in Mystic Falls within the hour.

"Well?" Dean asked as he kept his eyes straight on the road.

Sam kept his eyes on the map as he answered Dean, "According to Bobby, the news has been quiet lately.  Unfortunately, the manhunt is still on for us.  Bobby called in an "realiable"-," Sam made sure to emphasize that word,"-anonymous tip saying that we may have headed east, so that should give us enough time to check out this town before the authorities are on our tails again."

Dean had to smile at this.  If it weren't for Bobby, he didn't know where he or Sam would be right now.  At this point, he couldn't imagine life without their serrogant father, and he hoped he would never have to...

 

**:::**

 

There is only one person in this whole damn world that could ruin his game, and that person was sitting right next to him in the passenger seat of his 1967 Chevy Camero.  Damon sent a sideways glare to his younger brother who seemed oblivious of his obvious annoyance.  If he were to run into Dean again tonight, he would have to play it cool.  He didn't want his brother getting into his business.

"Really brother, I don't need a babysitter." Damon growled as he tried to keep his eyes on the road.

"I'm doing this upon Elena's request," Stefan replied calmly, "Whether you believe it or not, she's been worried about you...and so have I.  I could tell you haven't been feeding properly.  You need to keep up your strength.  There's too much at risk here for you not to be taking proper care of yourself.  You forget that Alaric is currently not himself and the Original family are still out there wanting to hunt us down."

Damon rolled his eyes and switched on the radio, a smile forming on his face as The Rolling Stones "Sympathy For The Devil" played quietly from the car speakers, "My dear baby brother..." Damon spoke with a dramatic sigh, "...sometimes you just got to put all your problems behind you and loosen up a bit. Now be quiet, their playing my song."

Stefan scowled as Damon put the radio louder and started to sing along with mock cheeriness.  Like that, the conversation was over.  As they got closer to the Grill, Damon felt a hint of disappointment at not seeing a 1967 Chevy Impala in the parking lot; though he had yet to see it with his own eyes, the roar of the engine was unmistakable.  Oh well, the night was still young and he was certain the Winchester's were bound to make an appearance again.  That, he was sure of.

 

**:::**


	4. But What's Puzzling You, Is the Nature Of My Game

:::

But What's Puzzling You, Is the Nature Of My Game

**Chapter III**

:::

 

Mystic Falls, to the untrained eye, seemed like a very quaint and small town.  As night fell, children who were out laughing and playing with their friends were being called in for dinner.  The little antique shops and boutiques that lined the picturesque street were closing up shop for the night, making way for the towns night time crowd.  Dean frowned as he took everything in.  Once upon a time, he tried to settle down and live the "apple pie" life. In the end, he knew the open road and the rundown motels were his home...always has been and always will be.  Now, and even then, the "white picket fence" idea still gave him the creeps.

"Well, looks like this may be one of the only places we can stop in for awhile."

Sam's voice brought Dean's attention to the quaint, two-story victorian Bed & Breakfast that Sam decided to pull into.  Even as night fell, it stood out pleasantly with its sky blue exterior and bright white trimmings.  The stone pathway that lead to the entrance was paved by lush green yellow rose bushes on either side.  The trimmed, well kept green lawn complimented the bright curb appeal of the B&B.

"Awesome." He mumbled under his breath.

Great, he really hoped there were no creepy doll rooms inside.  At least this place looked a little more kept up with the times; and for some reason, this creeped Dean out even more.  This place seemed a little too perfect.  He wouldn't have minded the occasional missing shingle from the roof or the window shutter hanging offﬀits hinges...that would've felt more like home to him.  Sam parked the car and Dean was more than happy to get out and stretch his tired limbs, Sam following right behind him.

"Well..." Dean looked to Sam and threw him some rolled cash, indicating for Sam to pay "...let's hope the rent here agrees with our budget.  Money is pretty tight right now, and if this place turns out pricey, you're paying the rest."

Sam scowled at Dean, "There is a place we passed up just down the street called Mystic Grill.  We could head down there once we have a chance to freshen up.  I'm sure you can find plenty of locals to hustle there."

"Mystic Grill?" Dean rolled his eyes, "Very original.  Well, while I bring in the doe, you bring in the research.  I hope your instincts are right."

Sam sighed wearily and nodded, "Yeah..."

 

**:::**

 

Damon sat at the bar nursing his sixth beer bottle and forth whisky of the night.  Stefan frowned at this, his eyes watching his brother cautiously from where he sat next to him.  They've only been at the Grill for two hours and it seemed that Damon was trying to get plastered well before the night even started.  He himself was still very weary at being in such a public place where anyone can find them, especially Alaric.  This was not his idea of keeping low key; but Damon being Demon, his stubbornness and his Devil-may-care attitude is what has always gotten them into trouble...and may also get them killed one day.

Stefan reached into his pocket, the keys to Damon's Camero brushing against his fingertips acting as another sign of his brothers detachment.  The minute they walked into the Grill, Damon chugged the keys at him, a clear sign that he didn't plan on staying sober.  This caused more worry on Stefan's part.  Damon rarely ever let him drive the Camero, a tall tale sign that Damon may have something planned up his sleeve, and knowing Damon, those plans rarely ever ended well...

 

**:::**

 

"I don't see why we had to walk down here." Dean grumbled under his breath.

"Its only a few blocks away from where we're staying." Sam responded with a hint of annoyance in his voice as he reached to open the door to the Mystic Grill, "And besides, we don't need to stand out anymore than we already do, especially driving around in that loud heap of junk."

Dean frowned and looked down at his attire and compared it with those of the townsfolk.  Where he wore dark boots, distressed jeans, and a dark green army jacket over a plain black t-shirt, everyone in the town seemed to be a little more fashion cautious.  He just shrugged and followed his brother into the Grill.  Right away, the music playing throughout the place already started to annoy the hell outta him.  The vintage Jukebox blasted some whiny chick crooning a sappy country love tune.  These people may think they have taste in style, but they sure as hell don't have taste in music.

Both Hunter's took in their surroundings.  There were a good amount of people at the bar, but the crowed had yet to pile in.  Dean nudged Sam forward and Sam lead the way towards the nearest available table.  As Sam tried to make his way politely through the crowed, a small group of girls rudely shoved their way past him, one after the other; an action he found strange because there was plenty of room for them to walk around him.  Sam tried moving aside to allow more room for the girls to pass through and accidentally bumped into another girl who was standing behind him.  He turned around quickly to give his apologies.

"Sorry." Sam said in his most sincere voice.

The girl turned around to face him, a small smile on her pretty, heart-shaped face.  For a moment, it seemed as though she was going to accept his apology; but the moment she saw him, Sam saw her smile abruptly fade and her eyes grow narrow.  Before he knew it, he was met with a stinging slap to the face.  Sam stood there stunned as his hand went automatically to touch his burning cheek.

"Jerk." The young brunette hissed at him before grabbing her purse and walking off.

Sam bit his tongue, holding back the insane urge to reply "Bitch" in return.  He felt his face flush as it seemed the crowed went quiet to observe the scene.  He heard many quiet whispers around him, mainly the women, and he heard someone whisper "the nerve of that guy".  Sam looked back at his brother, hoping to gain some sympathy, but he was only met with one of Deans' trademark grins.

Dean chuckled, "Wow dude, you just got bitch slapped!".

Sam scowled at his brothers remark, "Whatever, Dean."

"Not even the power of the "puppy dog eyes" worked on her!  Remind me not to mess with any of the chicks here." Dean continued to mock.

"Let's just find a table so I can get started on my research already." Sam huffed in annoyance and lead the rest of the way to the table closest to the bar.

 

**:::**

 

Damon smiled gleefully as he watched Dean make his way through the crowed.  Damon couldn't quite put his finger on it, but Dean looked even sexier tonight than he did last night.  Maybe it was the way the jeans Dean wore seemed to hug his curves just a little tighter, or maybe it was the way the little rips rose just a little higher above Dean's thighs.  The previous night, Dean looked a little more clean cut; but tonight, he could see the little stubs on Dean's chiseled jaw line, and his hair had more of a messier look to it.  Damon started to feel his hunger and lust begin to stir.  Too bad he couldn't do what he wanted because of the thorn by his side.  He glowered at his brother who sat right next to him at the bar.

"Really brother?  Do you have to sit this close to me?  God forbid people start thinking that we're a couple."

Damon smiled as he got the desired effect from his brother based on the disgusted frown on Stefan's face.

"Fine, I need to make a phone call anyway. Just...stay out of trouble, okay?" Stefan said as he stood up to pull his cell phone out of his pocket.

"Of course." Damon returned with his most innocent expression.

Stefan wearily shook his head and Damon watched satisfied as his brother made his way towards a booth furthest from all the noise.  A broad smile plastered itself on Damon's face as he looked over his shoulder to see Dean sitting a few tables away from him.

_"Finally"_ Damon thought as he took a generous swig of his beer  _"Let the fun begin..."_

 

**:::**

 

Dean sat and observed the patrons boredly as his brother typed away on his laptop.  So far, the pool tables have remained empty.  It seemed that people were more interested in the latest gossip.

"Well, found out anything interesting about this town?" Dean asked as he drank the last few drops of his beer.

"Yeah," Sam said as he sat up straighter to view the screen, "Mystic Falls was founded in 1859 by the "Founding Families", or the first families to settle here.  This little town seems to have a picture perfect history, but I dug deeper and found this.  There has been a few cases of animal mauling throughout the years-"

Dean groaned, "Really, Sam?  We're here to find our Leviathan Doppelgangers, remember?  I'm not in the mood to add vampires or werewolves, or whatever the hell else it is, onto our plates.  We have bigger fish to fry."

"So on our quest to take out ourselves, we should just ignore other hunts and the lives of other innocent people?" Sam asked incredulously, "Look Dean, we've got nothing.  Dick Roman is M.I.A and there hasn't been any Leviathan activity so far."

"Yeah, and I haven't had any sleep in days and we have little to no ammo to take out Dick's little army.  We need to save what strength we have." Dean argued back.

Sam sighed, "I'm just saying that if we run into anything other than ourselves, then we take it out."

Dean rolled his eyes.  He knew Sam was right.  They never ignored their responsibilities before and his trigger finger was itching for some action, "Fine, only if there's any real threat.  Other than that, we preserve our strength any chance we get."

Sam nodded in agreement, "I'll keep researching for any other recent activity.  Our Doppelgangers are bound to slip up sooner or later."

"While you do that, I'm going to get us a couple of more beers." Dean said as he stood up.

He proceeded to make his way through the small crowed, making sure to smile and nod in greeting along the way.  After the bitch slap Sam received, he didn't want to take any chances.

"Two beers." Dean requested as soon as he approached the pretty empty bar.  As he dug into his back pocket for his wallet, he felt someone looming right behind him.  Annoyed at having his personal space invaded, he turned around and was about to tell whoever it was to back off when he was met with stunning blue eyes.

"Hello." The stranger said with a cocky smirk.

Dean felt uncomfortable at how close this guy was to him, their faces a few inches apart.  He cleared his throat and tried to sound as casual as possible, "Uh...hi." Well, he tried.

The stranger moved next to him to lean his back against the bar, his elbows supporting his weight, "So..." The stranger began "...you new here?"

Dean arched an eyebrow. _"What's with this guy?"_ he thought.

He wasn't sure, but the tone the guy was using and the way he was looking at Dean suggested that he was interested in more than just simple conversation.  Dean cursed quietly under his breath...hopefully this guy didn't recognize him from the news and the FBI's Most Wanted list.  He decided to play nice and just go along.

"Just passing through."

That was all Dean was going to give him.

"Oh?" The guy asked as if waiting for Dean to continue.

The bartender finally came with Dean's beers and he was grateful for a way out of this awkward small talk.  He left his change for the bar keep and turned back to the guy and nodded, "Well, nice talking to you."

The blue eyed stranger nodded in return, the cocky grin still on his face, "Likewise."

Dean gave him a tight smile and started to make his way back to the table...feeling eyes on him the entire time.

 

**:::**

 

Damon watched Dean intently as he walked back to the table to join his brother.

_"Ah, so he likes playing coy"_ Damon thought _"Even better"._

Damon's smile broadened as he took a swig of his beer before pushing himself away from the bar and making his way back to Stefan.

 

**:::**

 

As the night progressed, the Mystic Grill started to become more lively as the towns youth started to pile in.  Dean looked around the bar, finding plenty of potential town folk to hustle at a game of pool.  Dean figured he'd have some fun while Sam continued his research.  He stood up and stretched, catching Sam's attention.

"Well, time for the man of the house to bring in the doe." Dean said with a smart-ass grin.  Sam gave him an irritated look before rolling his eyes and looking back to the computer screen.

Dean made his way to one of the pool tables that was occupied by what looked like the towns richie rich youth.

"Mind of I join the game?" Dean asked with his most confidant grin.

One of the young men, around Dean's hight with short, slick blonde hair and who looked no older than Sam, turned to face Dean.  His eyes roamed over Dean, sizing him up.  Dean stood his ground, waiting for their answer.

The young man allowed a cocky grin of his own, "How much do you wanna play for?"

Dean shrugged, "I normally like to lay everything out on the table."

The guys buddies started to snicker and the young man, whom Dean already recognized as the leader of this little pack, tried suppressing a laugh of his own, "You sure you got enough to put on the table?  I mean, as pretty as you are, I don't think that ass of yours will be enough."

Dean's smile faded and his eyes went cold. His look stopped their snickering immediately in its tracks as it was the last look many monsters saw and cowered from before Dean took them out.  The young man swallowed a lump in his throat.

"How 'bout this." Dean continued, his voice matching his features, "You win, you get to walk outta here with your limbs in tact. I win, I get the money and you get to walk outta here with your limbs in tact."

The guys eyes narrowed in return, "Really?" he stated in a condescending tone, "You really think you can take us all on?"

Dean looked at him, then to the other five men behind him.  Dean looked back at him, his green eyes telling the guy all he needed to know.  The guy turned around to face his buddies and Dean watched as they seemed to come to an agreement.  The guy finally turned around to face Dean.

"Fine; but I warn you pretty boy, its your funeral." The guy stated, trying hard to mask the fear he really felt towards the man before him.

Dean offered him a cold smile that sent a strong, unpleasant chill down his spine...

 

**:::**

 

Dean smirked as he collected his winnings.  $800 dollars, not bad for the first hustle of the night.

"Well guys, I guess tonight was your lucky night, huh?" Dean said as he waved the money in his hand.

"Yeah, whatever!" The guy hissed, "This ain't over pretty boy! Let's get out of here guys." And with the snap of his fingers, they all made their way towards the exit.

Dean smiled and made his way back to Sam.  The girly music finally started to grate on his nerves and he noticed the old Jukebox at the corner of the bar and decided to reward himself.  He walked over to the machine and started to flip through the music.  Taylor Swift.  Taylor Swift.  Justin...what?  Beeber?  Bibber?  WTF?  Dean had no clue what all this crap was.  He breathed a sigh of relief as he finally came across familiar territory.  Though the selection was small, he was happy to come across some AC/DC.  He scanned through the songs and settled on one.  As he searched through his pockets for some change, he felt a hand land heavily onto his shoulder and he was roughly turned around.  He found himself face to face with a man twice his size, and from the looks of it, this man didn't look happy to see him.

"I challenge you to a game of pool." The man demanded roughly.

Dean shrugged the mans hand off his shoulder, his defenses starting to kick in, "Hey, chill out dude.  Let me pick my song, then we can play nice." Dean responded sarcastically.

"Who the hell do you think you are," the huge man hissed at him, "You think you can just waltz in here and start hustling money away from MY town." he made sure he emphasized the "MY".

Dean was taken aback by the hostility that was radiating off this man.  Damn, people here didn't take kindly to outsiders, "Look dude, I didn't come here to cause trouble.  So how about you step away from me, let me play my music, and everybody's happy?" Dean knew sarcasm wasn't the best way to go, but this guy was really pissing him off.

Dean glanced past the guy to see Sam looking in his direction, concern etched over his face.  Dean saw Sam stand suddenly and he brought his attention back to the large guy whose huge fist was desending upon him...

Suddenly, the man Dean had met earlier was now standing between him and the fist that was meant for his face.  Dean saw the fist stop mid-air as the man with the stunning blue eyes met the dark eyes of the man who wanted to pummel Dean into the ground.

"You will put your fist down, turn around, and get the hell out of here." Damon ordered firmly.

The man nodded and Dean looked on in surprise as the man turned around in what seemed like a daze and headed out the doors.  As thankful as Dean was, he didn't like feeling like the "damsel in distress" who just got her ass saved.

"Look, thanks-"

"Damon." The man offered as he turned around to face Dean.

"-Damon..." Dean added irritabley "...but I can handle my own battles."

Dean felt uncomfortable at the way Damon smiled at him.  He froze as Damon stepped closer to him, almost backing him into the Jukebox, and reached an arm around him to enter two quarters into the machine.  Damon then proceeded to press play to the song that Dean had chosen. AC/DC's "For Those About To Rock" started to play loudly throughout the venue.  Dean swallowed nervously as Damon continued to invade his personal space.

"You know..." Damon whispered close to Dean's ear "...a simple "thank you" would've suﬃced."

With that, Damon pulled away, winked at Dean, then disappeared back into the crowed.  Dean stood there dumbfounded and confused by this mans actions towards him.  If he didn't know any better, he would think this man was hitting on him.  Dean suddenly felt another hand land on his shoulder and he turned around quickly to find Sam standing next to him.

"Hey, is everything alright?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Yeah," Dean responded reassuringly, "Everything's good. I just can't wait to put this crazy town behind us."

Sam nodded in agreement and followed his brother back to their table.

 

**:::**

 

Dean sipped on his beer as Sam continued to piece together some clues he found online.  Dean continued to scan the venue for any potential trouble when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.  He pulled out his cell and saw a text from Bobby telling him to call as soon as possible.  Dean really hoped Bobby had some new information for them about Dick Roman.  Sam gave him a questioning look.

Dean raised his voice over the chattering and music, "I gotta step out and make a call to Bobby."

Sam nodded in understanding.  The venue was now fully crowded and there was too much noise for Dean to make the call inside.

Dean stood up and looked around for the nearest exit.  He felt as though he was being watched and he looked past the crowed and made eye contact with Damon's piercing blue eyes from across the room.  He felt a chill run down his spine from the way Damon was looking at him.  Dean broke the brief eye contact and looked over to the back exit.  He looked over at Damon one more time and offered an awkward smile (the man did help him out after all) and made his way towards the exit.

 

**:::**

 

Damon smiled at the hint that Dean sent his way.  The seductive smile Dean gave him and the "come hither" look said it all...meet me in the back alley.  Damon smiled gleefully and finished off the rest of his whiskey.  He looked over to find Stefan still occupied on his cell phone (man, Stefan and Elena sure can talk) and quietly slipped away from the bar...

 

**:::**

 

"Yeah, thanks Bobby.  We'll be sure to keep an eye out." With that, Dean hung up his cell with a sigh.  The news hadn't been great.  Bobby had been trying pretty hard to hold offﬀthe authorities, but he called to warn the boys that their luck may be running out.

Dean was about to go back inside when he heard a noise coming from right behind him.  Before he could react, Dean felt himself being turned around and roughly pushed against the wall.  His surprised gasp was silenced by smooth lips being crushed against his own.  Dean pushed his hands against the broad shoulders, trying to shove his attacker away, only to have his wrists entrapped by strong hands and raised above his head.  He groaned into the rough kiss, his protests muﬄed by the hot tongue that thrust itself into his mouth.  Through the daze, Dean was finally able to make out a mass of dark hair and pale skin.  Damon.  Dean struggled against the strong hold Damon had on him, and he was shocked at the little resistance his own body wanted to give.  This Damon guy was a damn good kisser, the hint of whiskey on Damon's lips making it even better.  Dean felt his eyes closing and his lips starting to respond...until it dawned on him that he was making out with a guy.  Panicked by the situation, and the fact that he was actually enjoying it, Dean felt a sudden rush of adrenaline that allowed him to free his wrists from Damon's grasp.

Damon felt himself being roughly shoved back before a solid fist connected with his lower lip.  He quickly regained his footing and looked to Dean who was still leaning against the wall, pretty green eyes filled with shock and anger.

"Dude, what the hell?!" Dean responded roughly.

Damon smirked as he slipped his tongue past his lips to seductively lick the blood that trickled down, "My, are we a little feisty tonight."

"Dean."

Dean shoved himself away from the wall and looked over to see Sam walking out the back exit.  He looked back to find the blue-eyed stranger gone.

"Son of a bitch." Dean whispered under his breath.  He knew his cheeks were flushed and he prayed that Sam didn't notice.

"You okay?" Sam asked when he noticed how flushed Dean looked.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm good." Dean stated trying to act as casual as possible, "Let's head back to the B&B already.  I'm beat and we can start following up on leads tomorrow."

Sam didn't fully buy his brothers act, but he nodded in agreement.  Both Hunter's made their way out of the alley, unaware that they were being watched the entire time...

 

**:::**

 

A wicked smile formed across Dean's lips, "Dean, Dean, Dean...what a mess you've made.  Now I have to go find Damon and apologize for us."

Dean tsked as he pushed himself out of the shadows and made his way to the Impala that was hidden further down the dark alley.  He let out a dark laugh, "Its okay, I do love to kiss and make up..."

 

**:::**


	5. Hail, Hail To The Good Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will contain very brief sexual content between Leviathan!Dean and Damon..not graphic though (that will be reserved for the real Demon;)! This chapter was pretty difficult for me to write. As I've mentioned before, I'm not very good at writing anything that contains sexuality. My apologies if I tend to repeat myself in my writing (I'm my own editor & my vocabulary seems to have gotten shorter over the years:). Oh well, I guess that's what comes with writer's block. Now, on to the story...

**:::**

Hail, Hail To The Good Times

**Chapter IV**

**:::**

The fallen golden brown leaves of early Autumn crunched loudly beneath his black dress shoes as he grudgingly made his way back to the Boarding House.  He tucked his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket, the night becoming cooler as it started to near the witching hour. The wind started to howl as it blew the leaves further down the dirt road he was taking. He was still annoyed and a little baffled by Dean's actions toward him tonight.  The night before, Dean was ready to jump into bed with him with the snap of his fingers; then tonight, nothing.  He figured at first that Dean was just trying to tease him, work him into a frenzy, which he was doing a pretty damn good job at, then they were going to finish what they started in the alley.  In the end, all he got was a punch to his face and a split lip.  Damon knew he was holding back a little himself tonight, but it was only because Stefan was there and he didn't want his brother getting into his business.

A horrific thought crossed Damon's mind. He hoped Dean didn't think Stefan was his boyfriend!  That thought alone repulsed him to no ends.  Damon growled.  That's why he always told the little jinx to not sit so close to him in a public place.  He didn't want others to get the wrong idea.  A very faint and familiar sound coming from down the road behind him caught his attention and brought Damon back from his thoughts.  He felt a rush of excitement run through him, but he still held a grudge towards tonight's events.  He didn't plan on giving in that easily.  The purr of an engine got closer and closer until it eventually slowed down next to him.

"Hey sweetheart, need a ride?" Came the very familiar voice next to him.

Damon smiled to himself and continued walking, ignoring the hum of the engine as the car followed closely next to him.

"Ah come on, don't leave me hanging."

Damon snorted at those words, _*I'm leaving you hanging?!*_ , and continued to keep his eyes forward, "Sorry, I don't take rides from strangers."

Damon could almost _feel_ Dean's smile.

"Honey, we're hardly strangers." He heard Dean respond in a low, husky voice.

Damon gave a low growl as he felt his body respond to Dean's voice.  He came to a sudden stop, hearing the car slow to a stop next to him, and quickly turned his face away.  The dark veins started to appear slowly on his pale face and Damon fought to keep it under control.  He closed his blood filled eyes and took a deep, calming breath as he felt his sharp fangs start to retract.  He hated that Dean could do this to him.  Damon straightened himself up, hoping Dean didn't notice his momentary loss of composure, and turned around to face him.  Damon's eyes widened at seeing the '67 Chevy Impala for the first time.  It was in pristine condition, sleek black and sexy...just like its owner.  He saw a teasing smile form on Dean's shapely, full lips, "Like what you see?"

Damon definitely loved what he saw, but he sure as hell wasn't going to give Dean the satisfaction.  Damon shrugged nonchalantly and leisurely leaned his elbows on the driver side window, "Don't flatter yourself."

Dean placed his hand over his heart dramatically, "Ouch. Do I sense a little hostility?"

Damon smirked and shook his head, "I only have a few more blocks to walk...I think I can handle it."

Dean pouted his lips at Damon's refusal, something he knew Damon wouldn't be able to resist, "Awww, come on.  It's the least I can do to make up for tonight."

Damon sighed.  He couldn't deny those sexy, pouty lips, "I highly doubt this car ride will be enough; but fine, only because I feel you owe me."

Dean gave him a satisfied grin, "Awesome."

Damon rolled his eyes and pushed himself away from the driver side window and made his way to the passenger side.  He opened the door noisily and slid in, then slammed it none-too-gently closed.  He smirked when he saw the cringe it created on Dean's handsome features.

"Hey, easy there sweetheart.  I'm the one you're mad at, remember?" Dean said as he shifted the Impala back into gear.

"Believe me, I haven't forgotten." Damon then looked over at Dean, his ice blue eyes narrowing, "Oh, and don't call me "sweetheart".  Got that, sweetheart?"

Dean looked over at him and gave him a wink, "Got it."

Damon smirked, satisfied at the answer.  He decided to give Dean the silent treatment, pride stopping him from jumping on Dean and ravishing him; but he was not willing to forgive and forget, not yet.  Oh no, he was going to make Dean work for it.  Besides, he loved this little game they were playing.  He can feel Dean's eyes on him, trying to figure him out.  Damon loved it.  A song started to play on the radio that caught Dean's attention, breaking the deafening silence and sexual (if Damon says so himself) tension that had laid between them.

"I love this song." Dean declared enthusiastically and reached over to turn up the dial on the radio.

Damon arched an eyebrow as AC/DC's "For Those About To Rock" sounded off loudly throughout the Impala. He remembered the song from tonight. He glanced over to see Dean drumming his hands on the steering wheel as the guitar riffs and the famous vocals filled the car:

_**Oh Yeah, yeah** _

_**We roll tonight** _

_**To the guitar bite** _

_**Yeah, yeah, oh** _

A devious smile formed on Dean's lips as he pulled the car off to the side of the road and killed the engine.  Damon looked over at Dean with a raised eyebrow and a questioning look on his face.  Dean smiled and slid closer to Damon, seeing the look on Damon's face turn into one of curiosity.  Dean made his move, loving the look of surprise in Damon's eyes when he moved up and threw his left leg over Damon's lap and slowly straddled him.  Damon watched as Dean started to move sensually to the music, Dean's jacket slowly sliding off his shoulders and down his arms as if on its own accord as the opening verse of the song started to play:

_**Stand up and be counted** _

_**For what you are about to receive** _

_**We are the dealers** _

_**We'll give you everything you need** _

Damon couldn't believe it...Dean was giving him a little lap dance!  Once Dean's jacket laid on the passenger floor, he placed his hands on his own chest and very seductively guided them down his torso until he reached the hem of his jeans, Damon's eyes on them the entire time.  Dean used one hand to undo the button of his jeans, the other one grabbing a hold of Damon's chin and forcing his eyes up to his.  Dean could see the lust and hunger raging through Damon's eyes.  He gave Damon an innocent smile before he slowly started to arch his back, feeling his black shirt rise up his well-defined torso and his distressed jeans riding down his hips as he did so:

_**Hail hail to the good times** _

_**'Cause rock has got the right of way** _

_**We ain't no legend, ain't no cause** _

_**We're just livin' for today** _

_**For those about to rock, we salute you** _

_**For those about to rock, we salute you** _

Damon watched entranced as Dean arched himself back up and slowly swayed his hips, causing him to brush lightly against Damon's growing arousal.  Damon gasped slightly at the brief pleasure, his hunger growing at every move Dean made.  Dean gave a seductive smile and moved forward, placing his hands on the bench seat on either side of Damon's head.  He caught Damon's eyes with his and grinded his hips against Damon as the next verse of the song started to play:

_**We rock at dawn on the front line** _

_**Like a bolt right out of the blue** _

_**The sky's alight with the guitar bite** _

_**Heads will roll and rock tonight** _

_**For those about to rock, we salute you** _

_**For those about to rock, we salute you** _

_**For those about to rock, we salute you** _

_**Yes we do** _

_**For those about to rock, we salute you** _

_**Oooh, salute!** _

_**Oooh, ooooh yeah** _

Damon had enough.  He roughly grabbed a hold of Dean's hips and flipped them over.  Dean gasped in surprise at the sudden change in position, but Damon could still see the devious gleam in his eyes and behind his smirk.  Damon pressed Dean's back against the passenger door with his own body and he held Dean's wrists above his head against the passenger window.  With his free hand, Damon pried Dean's legs open and moved himself between them.  A moan passed Dean's lips and that was all the push that Damon needed.  He crushed his lips brutally against Dean's, making it painful and pleasurable at the same time.  He had a strong feeling Dean enjoyed that kind of thing, being that he was; after all, a wanted murderer.  Damon hasn't forgotten that.  Not one bit.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Dean asked breathlessly between harsh kisses.

Damon let out a low, throaty chuckle and nipped roughly at Dean's bottom lip, "Not even close."

"Well..." Dean whispered seductively into Damon's mouth, freeing his hands from Damon's grasp and slowly snaking them down to undo Damon's jeans "...I guess I'm going to have to try harder then."

Damon threw his head back and gasped, his eyes closing at the intensity of his lust as he felt Dean's hand grab a hold of his arousal.  He growled and thrust himself into Dean's hand, desperate for stimulation.  He felt Dean running his tongue slowly up his throat before nipping roughly at his jaw line.  Damon threw his head forward and captured Dean's retreating mouth, the kiss raw and brutal.  Damon never felt this way before. He felt himself losing all control.

He was so enraptured in his lust that he didn't realize Dean now lay beneath him with his legs wrapped around his hips, wanton and willing, crushed between the front seat of the Impala and of his burning body.  Damon slid his hands down on either of Dean's sides, his fingers sliding beneath Dean's shirt, then dragged his nails down until they reached the hem of Dean's jeans.  He slid the jeans down a bit more, Dean's hips now bare, and gripped the soft flesh tightly in his hands.  Damon moaned into the kiss as he felt Dean's hand quicken the pace.  He was so close...

**BANG!**

Both men jolted at the loud bang on the passenger window.  Damon threw himself off of Dean and quickly tried to re-adjust himself and make himself look presentable as Dean sat up straight and turned his head to see the face of a very disgruntled Sam glaring back at him.  Dean sighed, sounding very put upon, and reached over to roll down the passenger window.

"Thanks for making me walk, jackass!" Sam said, annoyance very evident in his tone.

"What, you couldn't walk back to the motel? I'm sure that it would've been a lot closer than here." Dean growled back.

"Well, I would have if you left me the damn keys!  You didn't see me running behind the Impala and yelling for you to wait when you took off?  I have all my crap in the trunk, Dean.  What, you expected me to stay locked out all night waiting for you?  Apparently, you wouldn't have been back anytime soon from the looks of it." Sam shot back sarcastically as he glanced over at a very disheveled Damon.

Damon couldn't believe it!  As much as he wanted to kill Sam for interrupting them, he actually felt heat rising to his cheeks.  He felt himself actually blushing!  Damon refused to let that show, so he meet Sam's eyes and gave him his best "devil may care" grin and gave Sam an unapologetic shrug of his shoulders, "Sorry."

Sam snorted at Damon's smart ass apology before bringing his attention back to Dean.

"What?  You couldn't pick the damn lock?" Dean replied with no humor in his tone.

Sam rolled his eyes and opened the passenger door, "Shut up and move the hell over.  Let's drop off your little "friend" here so we can head back already.  There's a lot of things we need to do."

Damon felt himself tense at those words.

"Yeah, yeah...whatever." Dean grumbled as he climbed out the car.  He started to re-adjust his clothing as he made his way around to the drivers side and got in, forcing Damon to ride in the middle.

The rest of the drive back to the Salvatore Boarding House, though only a couple of blocks down, was silent.  Damon sent a sideways glare towards Sam.  Damn little brothers always ruin everything.  He felt annoyed and weird sitting between the two brothers (Damon Salvatore never rides "bitch"), especially with Sam sitting right where he and Dean were making out just moments before.  Hell, there was still sweat there form their heated session and the windows were still a little fogged up.  Damon shifted uncomfortably where he sat, his pants still feeling a little tight.  This was definitely going to be a very awkward car ride.

**:::**

Damon made his way up the driveway to the vast, darkened house, feeling eyes on him the entire time.  He finally made it to the door when he heard the engine roar back to life.  He looked back to see the Impala make her grand exit down the road and away from the house, leaving dust in her wake.

' _So they plan on making their move soon?'_ Damon thought. He shook his head...he was really hoping to have bedded Dean by now before he had to kill him.  Damon tsked at this as he made his way inside the house.  What a shame.

**:::**

Dean stared into the rearview mirror, watching as the Salvatore Mansion disappeared from view, "Took you long enough." Dean growled and glared at Sam, "I thought I was going to have to go all the way with him."

Sam chuckled, "Looks like you were having fun. I didn't want to ruin your game."

Dean smirked and shrugged, "Yeah, I kind of was.  Dean should really appreciate what I'm doing for him.  That vampire is so much fun to play with and he tastes real good...I can't wait to have him for dessert."

Sam rolled his eyes, "The Winchester's are here and they are catching on to us." He looked over at Dean, an evil smile playing on his lips, "You won't have to wait very long."

"I hope not." Dean sneered.

He reached over to the radio, putting up the volume to Jon Bon Jovi's "You Give Love A Bad Name".  He chuckled silently to the lyrics. It described him...well, _Dean_...very well.  He put the Impala into full throttle.  He loved helping Dean out by playing matchmaker.  A Hunter and a Vampire...what a perfect imperfect match.  This type of fairy tale was made to have a bloody ending.  Such a fun little game and a tasty little town.  Ah well, all good things must end. Good times.

**:::**


End file.
